


forgot to float away

by couldaughter



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Getting Together, Ghost Hunters, M/M, Soft Magic System
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-03-31 12:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13975230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couldaughter/pseuds/couldaughter
Summary: Josh shone his torch across centre ice and barely restrained a deeply unmanly shriek at the revelation that ghosts were, in fact, definitely real.“WoOOoooOOoooh,” said the ghost, emphatically. They waved their...appendagesin the air, looking for all the world like an actual person in a sheet, except for the part where they were transparent and floating. “WoohoHHOHohh.”





	forgot to float away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shihadchick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shihadchick/gifts).



> light content warning for, uh, i guess emetophobia. nothing is really described but there's some ectoplasm business in here

**Luc** : Great news guys

 **Luc** : Just saw a couple ghosts

 **Sonny** : !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 **Josh** : Oh come ON

 

* * *

 

“I really don’t understand how we got into this mess,” said Josh, looking with some trepidation at the (locked) utility door into Nationwide.

Sonny shook his head disapprovingly. “Don’t wuss out on us now, man. Not cool.”

Luc just folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. It was surprisingly effective considering Josh had literally just been watching Luc let Savy’s kids use him as a jungle gym for a couple hours. The guy was kind of chronically unthreatening.

Josh sighed. It was really tiring having to be the responsible adult to the rookies. “Whatever, dude, I’m gonna help. I just don’t, like, _get it_.”

Luc patted his arm, and then patted it a couple more times, apparently for emphasis.

“What is so hard to get about releasing tormented spirits from their eternal doom, _Joshermy_?” Sonny was developing a bad habit with Josh’s name, a.k.a. refusing to respect its true origins.

Josh refused to admit on principle that a couple of his jokes had been kinda funny. It would set a really terrible precedent.

He stood by and attempted to look disapproving while Luc used some kind of cantrip to pop the lock on the back door, and then just full on tried to ignore what was happening while Sonny did… _something_ to prevent the security system from triggering.

There was no point being jealous. He did not need to have another self esteem crisis over his magic, or lack thereof; his family had been sick enough of it the first time around his brothers had locked him in the bathroom with the Harry Potter books-on-tape for probably a full calendar day.

They’d fed him, so Josh thought it probably could’ve been worse. And his parents had totally grounded them for a couple weeks afterward, while Josh got unrestricted access to the Gamecube.

Every cloud had a silver lining.

He shifted his grip on the backpack Sonny had shoved at him on the way out of Luc’s apartment. It was full of, like, herbs or something.

Hopefully not the kind of herb Josh was fairly sure Sonny was smoking every time they got more than three days off in a row. He was, at least, a responsible pothead.

“Are you coming or what?” Luc called from the doorway. His fingertips were glowing slightly, a radiant silver shine, which was just cool enough that Josh followed without bothering to chirp him about it.

Only a couple of guys on the team had magic they could externalise, as far as Josh was aware. He knew there were a few more with the classic internal stuff - good luck, good stamina, super buffness - but they generally didn’t mention it in the room.

It was kind of a thing in juniors that Josh was such a big hitter without magic. And he’d had the tests done enough times to be absolutely sure there was nothing magical behind it - there were a lot of rules for magicians in the O, let alone the big leagues.

They trooped down the utility corridors in comfortable silence, only pausing occasionally so Sonny could work more complex hexes on the security cameras. It was kind of weird that Sonny, the biggest stoner Josh had ever known to play pro hockey, was a technomancer.

“I’m not a technomancer, Joshler,” said Sonny, as if reading Josh’s mind. He really hoped Sonny didn’t turn out to have a secondary expression. “I just play one on TV.”

“Oh, fuck off,” said Josh, peering around the corner - they were about to enter the home stretch into the rink, which he was fairly sure had a couple of magical protections he wasn’t seasoned enough to be informed about.

“Careful,” Luc said quietly. He looked focused, the way he sometimes did on the ice - usually just before firing a sweet pass to somebody, or even actually scoring a goal of his own. “This is, uh, kind of the tricky part.”

“Only kind of?” Josh murmured to Sonny, as Luc tiptoed forward into the corridor, fingertips glowing ever brighter.

He couldn’t figure out if the glow came from under the skin or not. He’d never payed that much attention in Thaumatology class, except for the times the teacher got sick of teaching them and let them pick a fantasy movie to watch and analyse.

Josh once got a solid B on a paper about real world thaumaturgical parallels in Hocus Pocus, which was kind of the peak of his academic career. Mom had it pinned on the fridge for about six months before she got to replace it with the O draft photo.

It was kind of weird, watching Luc work when he wasn’t quite so determined to look nonchalant, as if he saw magic being worked every day.

He leaned forward slightly, trying to get a better view of Luc’s hands moving.

It occurred to Josh, absently, that Luc’s focused look was kind of... hot.

The thought entered his head and pinged around the corners of his working memory for a couple of seconds before he managed to get a firm grasp of it and slam it firmly in the mental box labelled ‘NOT NOW’.

It wasn’t that the thought was entirely unprecedented - Josh had long since accepted being bi, and he’d been nursing an unfortunate crush on Luc for most of the season - but midnight in the workplace was absolutely not the time and probably not the place to entertain any ideas. Even if that workplace was designed for playing hockey three or four nights a week and not, like, filing or faxing stuff or whatever.

Did people still fax? Josh honestly wasn't sure.

Luc was doing something complicated inside the workings of a fairly pristine ward codex, coaxing out strands of magic thick enough that even Josh could see them clearly in the dim light.

Josh shuffled a little closer. The letters on the page in front of Luc were shifting, water like, into a new configuration.

He waited until Luc turned the page to whisper, “How’s it going?”

Luc shot him a glare, then sighed. “Like I said, man, it’s tricky. I think I’m nearly done though, just give me a sec to move this last barrier over a couple inches.”

He waggled his fingers (still glowing) for emphasis, and stuck out his tongue.

Josh refused to apply any positive adjectives to the expression. To do so would disgrace him for generations.

Sonny elbowed him in the side, waited for Josh to glare at him, then winked. Sometimes Josh was convinced he was cursed to make only the worst possible friends.

It would explain a couple of really terrible relationships he’d had in juniors. There was only so much Call of Duty Josh was willing to play in exchange for a five minute handy in the cheapest hotel room the O could find.

Within a few minutes there was a decisive popping feeling in Josh’s ears, like decompression on a plane, and Luc stood up, dusting off his hands.

“Alright, we’ve got about an hour before the wards reset themselves. Just, uh, try not to panic when we get in there, alright?” Luc looked directly at Josh as he said this, which Josh found a little unfair. He gestured towards Sonny, subtly, attempting to make a face which expressed his concerns.

Luc rolled his eyes, but turned and repeated the warning to Sonny, who seemed nonplussed by his sudden inclusion in the Don’t Fuck It Up cohort.

It was weird having a 19 year old be the most competent guy in the room, but Josh wasn’t going to complain.

The rink opened up before them like the night sky itself, distant fixtures glimmering in the light cast by Josh’s torch (unearthed from the backpack), Sonny’s torch (on his phone), and the continuing, gentle glow of Luc’s fingertips.

Josh shone his torch across centre ice and barely restrained a deeply unmanly shriek at the revelation that ghosts were, in fact, definitely real.

He’d learned a lot about the theory underpinning the existence of ghosts in Thaumatology - another of his papers had been about the complexities of afterlife representation in Casper The Friendly Ghost - but he’d never actually had the pleasure (or displeasure, if it came to that) of meeting one in real life.

“WoOOoooOOoooh,” said the ghost, emphatically. They waved their… _appendages_ in the air, looking for all the world like an actual person in a sheet, except for the part where they were transparent and floating. “WoohoHHOHohh.”

“Hi,” said Luc, moving forward very slowly on the ice. Slipping would be both embarrassing and dangerous. “Don’t worry, this shouldn’t hurt.” His calm voice was very reassuring, Josh thought, but the ghost didn’t seem that interested.

Possibly because another ghost had appeared above the ice, casting its own horrible, unsettling shadow below it.

 _Kind of not a ghost, then_ , thought Josh in the split second before it swooped directly at his chest.

The next few minutes were really, deeply confusing.

He blinked. Luc had a hand in the centre of his chest, which would have been pretty provocative if it weren’t for the fact that his hand was _literally disappearing into Josh’s sternum_.

Attempting to speak revealed that he was apparently possessed, or possibly having the world's most disgusting stroke, because all he managed was a kind of weak groan followed by a really impressive oozing of black slime out of his mouth and nose.

He went cross-eyed looking at it, at which Luc made a face which was actually unreadable. Josh had thought he was getting pretty good at decoding Luc’s various expressions, considering he was usually an open-faced sandwich emotionally, but this one was just… he stopped thinking for a second as more black slime made a very unpleasant appearance from his eyes.

“Dude,” he heard Sonny mutter. “This is _so fucked up_.” He looked more impressed than horrified, which would’ve made Josh kind of annoyed if he had the emotional energy to spare for it.

“Yeah, Sonny, no shit,” said Luc, still with that same unreadable expression. “Look, Josh, I’m gonna sort this out, we’re gonna go home, and we are gonna swear off ghosthunting forever, if that’s what you want.”

 _I am not participating in the ghost hunt!_ Josh thought, deeply wishing he could speak or, like, move, or do anything of his own volition besides moving his eyeballs. _In fact, that’s kind of the opposite of what just happened!_

“Yeah, I get you,” said Sonny, giving Josh a sympathetic look. “Ghost hunting is way cooler on TV.”

Sonny had started their night by playing four versions of the Ghostbusters theme song. Josh had started the night by refusing to acknowledge Sonny’s existence for a full half an hour after being made to listen to the Fall Out Boy version an extra three times.

Apparently Sonny thought it had a really good ghost hunting vibe.

Sonny thought most things had a good vibe, though. It was sort of the technomancer deal, Josh was pretty sure.

Luc muttered something cryptic and ancient-sounding under his breath, and withdrew his hand from Josh’s chest just in time for Josh to expel a lot of black slime from his mouth, blink, and pass out.

He came to lying on his back on the ice, Luc leaning over him with an at-last readable expression of concern on his face.

“Dumbass,” said Luc.

“Oh, thanks so much,” said Josh, struggling to sit up. He felt a little bit like Marchand had hip checked him into the sun, but he made upright without passing out again so he was probably fine.

Luc’s eyes widened. He put a hand on Josh’s thigh, which was the second worst place he could’ve put it. Third worst, if you counted the possibility of face touching. “I didn’t mean you, obviously. I’m the dumbass here, man.”

Josh frowned. “Dude, you’re not a dumbass. I’m just maybe not the best guy to bring on a ghost hunt considering I’m, y’know, about as magical as a roll of 2-ply toilet paper.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” said Luc, seriously. “My mom used to do exorcisms professionally, it’s pretty rare a spirit like that doesn’t literally, like, burn people from the inside out.” His voice wavered a little. He bit the thumbnail of his free hand, worried it with his teeth for a moment. Instinctively, Josh grabbed his wrist.

He could probably pass it off as a side effect of possession, because, like, who the fuck knew anything about possession anyway.

Rubbing his thumb across the nub of Luc’s wrist bone, though, that was definitely not possession-excusable. It made him feel a lot better though, so maybe it was technically a post-possession therapy.

He glanced across at Sonny. Sonny was across the rink, doing something mysterious to the replay screen. It was probably best to leave him to it.

“Seriously,” said Josh, tapping a deep, long dormant well of sincerity. “Thank you. I mean, if you’re right, you saved my life.”

Luc blushed, looking down at his wrist cradled in Josh’s fingers. “Uh, just, um, doing my thing, y’know.” His fingertips started glowing again, softly silver. “And I couldn’t let a first line winger go out to the arena curse, right? Torts would actually murder me, and then the team’d be down _two_ players in a playoff push.” His words themselves sounded reasonable, but the speed he was speaking at made him stumble a few times, still blushing.

“Hey,” said Josh, feeling realisation dawn with cheetah-like speed. There was no delicate way to address the matter, so - “Do you, uh, _like_ me?”

“Are you TWELVE?!” Sonny yelled, from across the rink.

“Shut the fuck up, Sonny,” said Luc, voice somehow carrying far enough to echo against the distant roof. He turned back to Josh. “And, uh, don’t hold it against me but - yeah, I kinda do. In the middle-school meaning of the word.” He shifted his wrist in Josh’s grip until their palms lined up, linked their fingers.

“Oh,” Josh replied feeling somewhat overwhelmed. A lot of stuff was going on, was the thing. It was nice to have Luc spell something out for him. “Great. Uh. Me too. For you, I mean. In the middle-school sense, and also the grown up way, because we’re legal adults.”

“Don’t,” said Luc, beginning to smile. “I like to pretend I’ll be young forever.”

“But then how will you ever turn out to be a creepy ghost who possesses hot young hockey players with great hair?” Josh asked, smiling back. He had a feeling he was gonna have basically the worst dreams of his life for a while, but in the moment - he was mostly feeling okay. Hopefully the magic injection straight to his internal organs had stabilised his mood a bit.

That was the whole point of emergency cardiotherapy, after all. Not that Josh knew literally anything about that beyond what popped up on Grey’s Anatomy from time to time.

“I don’t know,” said Luc. “I’ll figure something out. I’m smart that way.”

“You sure are,” said Josh. “Wanna blow this popsicle stand? Leave Sonny in a ditch somewhere? Go make out on my couch for a couple hours?”

“Oh, my god,” Luc replied, leaning forward. “There’s nothing I wanna do more right now.”

Josh grinned, then gestured towards the tunnel. “Head start?”

Luc kissed him, swift and light, and pushed himself to his feet. He offered his hand. “Nah,” said Luc. “Let’s do this one together.”

**Author's Note:**

> a TREAT! for you, my DEAR FRIEND ;)
> 
> anyway, thanks to J and L for encouragement while i was writing this, and also for not telling me my jokes are bad, even if they maybe are.
> 
> josh is determinedly Not Magic in the same way fuckin... that guy from poison study is, to the point that eventually his determined Not Magic-ness lead to a partial immunity to magic, hence surviving the horrible curse possession
> 
> yes the arena curse is a poltergeist ghost thing now. i do what i want.
> 
> hope you enjoyed this jaunt into young player incompetence! god, i love these terrible boys
> 
> the ghost is definitely saying 'BEWARE, WORSE GHOST IMMINENT', but josh never took that ghost language elective in high school so the message was lost to time
> 
> title from weighty ghost by wintersleep, which is one of my favourite songs and FINALLY at least SLIGHTLY appropriate to title mine from. it's a big day for me


End file.
